Nine Mistakes I’ve Made In Relationship with Power
Becoming a good collaborator and becoming a good sourcekeeper are one thing
I am gradually learning how to come into right relationship with powerful people who are bringing beautiful things into the world. This learning process is inseparable from the task of becoming a powerful person who is bringing beautiful things into the world.
(By ‘power’ here, I mean things like leadership, authority, sourcekeeping, and creation. I mean the ability to, as Bonnitta Roy says, move ‘bodies in space.’)
Every time I choose to Lead — to step forward into my own authority — I experience failure, confront my limitations, and receive direct feedback from reality. I can then empathize more deeply with those who have Led me in the past. Becoming a good Collaborator is inextricably linked with becoming a skillful Source.
(I am using Source here the way Peter Koenig conceived it, and the way Tom Nixon writes about it in Work with Source.)
The postmodern, multicultural turn of the past seventy years has made ‘power’ into a dirty word for many people. But regardless of our squeamishness about power, it’s a natural property of existence. We know this because it keeps rearing up its pesky little head: in our sex lives, in our friend groups, in our collaborations, and in our attempts to create more life-giving cultures.
Improving my relationship with power has been an extremely high-leverage intervention for me. I believe it’s a critical acupuncture point for our cultural moment as well. And the good news is that we don’t have to look very hard to find a classroom for practicing with power; power issues surround us.
This post is a non-exhaustive list of mistakes I’ve made in relationship with power. In particular, I’m focusing on mistakes I’ve made in connection with people who were the Source, or creative authority, of projects I was part of. Some of these mistakes happened directly in the context of collaboration, while others happened in my own mind as I watched my friends move in the world. Each of these mistakes represents a particular flavor of disempowerment, and they feel pretty unflattering to write down. But I hope they will be recognizable, and helpful, to others who are increasing their capacity for empowered collaboration.
Seeing the Source as my rescuer, and their project as my salvation.
Failing to see the Source’s full humanity and vulnerability.
Failing to distinguish my vision and gifts from theirs.
Waiting to be told what to do.
Withholding key feedback.
Not asking for what I need.
Judging from the sidelines.
Projecting my own shadow qualities onto the Source.
Being terrified of having an impact.
Seeing the Source as my rescuer, and their project as my salvation. It’s an emotionally potent experience to come into contact with a creative, competent leader whose vision aligns with mine. It can feel like finding water in the desert, or like I’ve found the golden ticket to the fulfillment of my own dreams. These understandable fantasies — related to my deepest longings and unmet needs — mean that I’m bringing a lot of unspoken expectations to the collaborative table. When inevitable bumps and disappointments come, my high hopes can get me into trouble.
Failing to see the Source’s full humanity and vulnerability. Once I’ve got someone in the position of my rescuer, it’s pretty hard to see them in their full humanity. Because I’ve given away too much of my power to them, we are no longer meeting as peers. I may conflate the person with the project. I may begin to resent their human failings, and the way that those failings are “blocking” the achievement of our shared dreams. This is just one example of a wider, recurring dynamic where a leader becomes dehumanized, objectified, or seen only for their what they can do. This is part of the energetic signature of lonely, masculine leadership.
Failing to distinguish my vision and gifts from theirs. As a creative project moves along, I need to be continually sensitive to the boundary between what is mine to do and what the Source’s project is. Tom Nixon’s Work With Source has a name — “specific source” — for the people collaborating closely with a project Source. To be a “specific source” means that we’re stewarding a particular area of work underneath the project’s broader umbrella. As I offer my gifts within the project, I need to be clear about the particular angle and capacities I am bringing to the table. I also need to feed and sustain my work outside the project.
Waiting to be told what to do. This one is pretty self-explanatory. Collaborators and “specific sources” need to attune to their own creative impulse and bring forth proposals, invitations, experiments, and ideas that fit within the Source’s vision. A Source who is holding a large vision cannot actually see all the pieces; we each need to take responsibility for what is ours to bring forth.
Withholding key feedback. Many people find it a little scary to offer direct feedback to someone “in power,” and I am no exception. I have sometimes avoided hard conversations with my Source partners — withholding key feedback and blocking the unfolding of our relationship.
Not asking for what I need. I was raised by two young parents who were very stressed out. As far as I can tell, I learned not to ask for too much because I didn’t want to be a burden. Today, I still have a really hard time putting my needs on the table. Leaders (who often bring up our issues with our parents!) are busy balancing many considerations, but the empowered collaborator knows that it’s important to bring our needs forward as part of the bigger picture that the leader is holding.
Judging from the sidelines. If I find myself complaining to others about how someone is using their power, I can pretty much guarantee there’s something I need to look at in myself. Joe Hudson said it wonderfully: “If you’re judging someone else for showing off, you might be having trouble with being seen.”
Projecting my own shadow qualities onto the Source. “He has trouble with boundaries.” “She can be reactive and cruel.” “He vacillates between shame and grandiosity.” “She idealizes people and doesn’t ask the hard questions.” “His unmet needs are an organizational liability.” All of these are thoughts I’ve had, and words I’ve said out loud. Later — sometimes a lot later — I realize that I’m catching a glimpse of my own difficulties, my own shadow, in the mirror of a leader’s behavior. It can be terrifying to see our own inner monsters inside someone else — especially someone who is making use of their power and influence.
Being terrified of having an impact. There’s lot of talk about agency on twitter. According to one popular meme, “you can just do stuff.” Frankly, part of me finds it kind of terrifying that the people who “do stuff” — including me — have major blind spots and failings. As our power increases, our potential to mess stuff up increases, too. Sometimes, I’m so afraid of the harm we’ll cause with what we can’t see yet that I’m afraid to do anything at all.
That’s the end of this list, but the territory is big here. I can see that I’ve touched on a lot of other themes I hope to write about soon. These include:
The particular themes, energies, challenges, and developmental tasks for women leading in the metamodern collaborative space
How our relationship to power is related to what my friend Daniel Thorson calls the father wound
How our collaborative relationships, just like our intimate partnerships, can become an arena for healing and transformation
The photos for this piece were taken by Peter Munthe-Kaas at our SAS training at the Monastic Academy in the winter of 2022. Surrendered Leadership, incidentally, is an awesome arena for exploring power.
Thank you, this is exquisite. The work is to reconcile the personal as the expression of power, with the universal as its source. It's not a final destination; creation happens in the space between.
It also reminds me of a poem: https://open.substack.com/pub/freelyfreely/p/true-mastery
All of these, all of this, a direct transmission to my soul. ❤️🔥